The Forbidden Soulmate
by The Black Sacrament
Summary: Femslash. Soulmate!AU. Natasha/OC The black widow (before shield) is sent to assassinate a very acceptional human female disguised as an escort. What will happen when she realizes that she's been sent to kill the one person who makes her whole?
1. chapter 1

**Nastasha/Oc femslash. Soulmate!AU. Hope ya enjoy;)**

The music is soft as I walk out around my flat. I do a little dance as make my way to my closet. I pull out my favorite robe and smile. I have a client tonight so I don't even bother putting on any clothing under it.

My profession is frowned upon but it pays the bills. Being an escort is like being the fantasy of the populace. They replace me with the person of their desires. I am just a blank canvas that they use to make their fantasies come true. This does not offend me. In fact, it makes me feel powerful. For the simple fact that I'm most likely better than their desired. It is vain but true.

A knock comes at the door and I walk hesitantly towards it. Usually, my heightened hearing picks up their footsteps but this time it did not. This is odd.

I open the door swiftly. The woman before me looks stunning. Her hair is red. Her long curls fall over her shoulders like a waterfall of blood. She has curves that a goddess would envy, and her eyes are wild and green.

At first glance she is just a stunning beauty but I see more with my keen eyes. She is heavily armed, even in a skin tight dress. She stands evenly balanced on both feet despite her six inch heels. Her comfortability with this indicates a heavy background of fighting. The look in her eyes is guarded heavily but I see something familiar. She has known pain and death. She is an assassin. I surmise this in half a second.

"You look ravishing. Come on in," I say with a smirk. Even though she's come to kill me I can't let her know that I know. Her eyes widen minutely and she hides it quickly.

Once inside, I walk to the kitchen and pour myself a shot of vodka. I can hear her behind. She already has a gun in her hand. It is small but rather deadly.

"Do you want a shot," I say calmly. I don't turn around to look at her. I know I will have a hold in my chest when I do.

"I don't think I'll be needing one," she says. I freeze. My mind is reeling. She just spoke my words. The words that had appeared when I thirteen years old. The universe is cruel enough to send my soulmate to kill me. I laugh maniacally and turn around.

A gun is aimed at my chest. My laugh is harsh as ever. Her face hardens at my lack of fear. I pick up my shot and toss it back.

"Life is a bitch isn't it? You've been sent to kill you're soulmate," I rasp. The gun wavers as she steps closer. I open my robe and point to the words on my right hip. Her eyes flash with rage. Her gun is still aimed at my chest. I tap my finger above my heart and draw an x.

"Right here. Just one shot."

"No. This cannot be," she growls. I nod and watch her pace furiously. Despite the fact that my soulmate was sent to kill me I'm quite happy with her. She is stunning.

"If you don't want to do this you only have one option," I say slowly. She stops and looks at me with those wild eyes. I can see the desperation and helplessness. The bond must be running deep. "There is an organization called shield in New York City. You must either go there or get their attention. They can help you."

She runs her free hand through her hair unconsciously and thinks hard. I feel bad for her. Because she cannot kill her soul mate she must run. I feel bad.

"Nick Fury will be hesitant but let him know your situation," I say softly. She looks up at me and I step closer to her. She flinches minutely at my movements and I sigh.

"I could never hurt you."

She looks conflicted. Her hand comes up slowly and my eyes lock with hers. As her fingers caress my cheek I let out a shaky breath. I've never understood what it means to have a soulmate but I'm beginning to. Her touch is like sparks igniting under my skin.

"What your name?" Her voice is gruff. I think for a moment. Should I tell her my real name? I feel that I can't lie to her.

"My name is Ashton Winters," I say slowly. Her hand moves to my hair and I fight the urge to groan. "What is yours?"

She sighs shakily and her fingers pull away from me. I open my eyes and see her staring at me intensely. I feel like she's staring into my soul.

"Natalia Romanova," she whispers. I smile tentatively at her. I can feel that she is being genuine. Her expression turns slightly furious and I balk. "Why are you selling your body?"

I blanch in response. I knew that one day I would have to explain this to my mate but I didn't think it would be so soon.

"I can't work in public with my abilities. It would only raise questions," I say, looking down. I don't dare look at her.

"What abilities?" Her voice is suspicious and it breaks my heart.

"I can control ice and fire. It's uncontrollable at times. I have a while to go before I have complete control. I don't know how so," I trail off unsure of how she will respond. I hope she still wants me.

Her hand grabs mine pulling me toward her swiftly. I raise my eyes to hers and she looks at me adoringly. I sigh in relief.

"You're mine. Nothing can change that now. But I..I must be going before they come. I will find this Shield and I will come for you," she says, determined. I smile sadly at her. She can't come back for me. It will only cause problems.

"Don't come back for me. I will find you, Natalia," I whisper. Her eyes are pained. She knows it will be a long time before we meet again. Even longer before we have an actual relationship.

Suddenly, lips like velvet attach themselves to mine. I moan softly as she entangled her hands in my hair. I've never felt this fire before in the touch of anyone. I've never felt this type of need. But it ends to soon and not like either of us wanted.

I keep my eyes closed and listen to her footsteps as she walks away. The sound resonates through my home and shatters my heart into a million pieces.

They follow her.


	2. I found

**_"And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be_**

 ** _Right in front of me, talk some sense to me"_**

 ** _-Amber Run_**

When she left, I didn't have the will to continue my trade. Being an escort is all good and well until you find the one. Even though I didn't really know her, I couldn't cheat our bond like that. I decided to do something a little more dangerous. Like get the attention of Shield.

I put all of my efforts into to becoming a problem for Shield after she left. I trained my body hard. Working out everyday. Running miles and miles to condition myself. Parkour. Taking several different martial arts classes and weapons handling classes. It was intensive and hard. Despite this, I had to do what I had to do to get her back. I determined to be a deadly assassin. One that made it onto Fury's radar.

It had been three long years since my soul mate had walked out of my door. I had killed a lot of people since then. It had hardened me beyond recognition.

I had scars littering my body and one that marred my face. It went from right above my right eyebrow to just below my right eye. I didn't see it as ugly. I saw it as frightening. I liked the look my marks held when they saw me. I could practically smell the fear.

My tattoos didn't disappoint either. Though my skin is deep caramel they show up well.

I had full sleeves on my arms and a huge back piece. My right arm was dedicated to the Goddess Kali Ma. The Goddess of destruction and creation, and my namesake. I named myself Kalika after her.

The left was dedicated to Enyo, the Goddess of war. On my back, fire and ice clashed together in the visage of a fire dragon and an ice dragon. They had hurt like hell but I reveled in the reactions I received.

My hair was shaved on the sides and nape, but long and curly on top. My fingertips caressed the sides of my head as I sat on top of a hill. I'd just gotten back from a mark and I wanted to calm my mind. I always meditate after a kill. It helps me keep my powers at bay.

My eyes snap open as I hear two pairs of light footsteps behind me. I roll my eyes in irritation. They aren't messy but they obviously don't know much about me.

I stand up slowly and flex my fingers. Time to have some fun.

"It would be a shame if I had to turn you to ashes," I said slowly. The footsteps stopped and I heard the click of a gun. I just shook my head.

"It is not wise to turn your back to your opponent. You really are an amateur," a male voice rang out. I chuckled lightly.

"Turn around and get on your knees," a female voice called. It was familiar and it awakened a flame inside me that I had forgotten.

I turned around slowly and my eyes widened in disbelief. She had her gun pointed at me just like the first time we met. The irony was heavy but she looked amazing.

"Natalia, we have to stop meeting like this," I said with a soft smile. Her harsh expression faltered and dropped completely as she registered my voice. I looked a lot different but my voice was the same English, husky thing it had always been. She lowered her gun immediately.

"Ashton," she whispered, in disbelief. I nodded slowly. As she came toward me, her partner stopped her.

"Agent Romanoff, get your gun back up," he growled. She glared at him continued toward me.

"Barton, it's her," she hissed over her shoulder. As she came toward me I met her halfway and pulled her into my arms. She melted immediately.

It felt so right having her in my arms. It had been three years. Three years of being alone and angry. Three years of longing. I finally had her back. I never planned on letting her go again. She pulled away suddenly and turned back to her partner.

"She's coming with," she said fiercely. Barton looked ready to object. "End of discussion."

The ride to the base is weird. Barton stares at me like I'm the most interesting person in the world. His eyes run over my left arm with thinly veiled curiousity.

Natasha, as she likes to be called, holds my right hand securely in hers. Her lips twitch into a smile as she gazes at me. I feel at home in her presence. It's like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

"What is the sleeve about," Barton says suddenly. I turn toward him and stare blankly.

"Enyo. The Goddess of war," I say softly. He nods slowly and admires the tattoo some more.

"How old are you," he queries. I scrunch up my brows. How does he not know? I feel Natasha tense up beside. She doesn't know either, I presume.

"Just turned 20 July the 6th. Can't drink yet but I will be regardless," I rasp. Barton smirks at me and gives me a fist bump. Natasha rolls her eyes and the narrows them.

"You were 17 when we met," she says slowly. I nod with a grin. Barton laughs loudly.

"Damn, Nat. You're a cradle robber." Natasha glares at him furiously and I kiss her cheek with a smirk.

Once we get to the base, a few agents try to grab me. This results in Natasha nearly taking their heads off their bodies. We decided it would be best to keep our relationship under wraps for awhile. She is having problems with that it seems.

As we walk in, I'm in handcuffs. It's very uncomfortable considering they are made specifically for me. They are like metal gloves with chains linking them. It's crazy how little they know about me. I don't need my hands to kill them.

We go straight to the medbay. Fury was angry that they brought me in instead of killing me but once he heard that I would fight for them he changed his tune. Someone of my abilities is very valuable. He demanded that I have an examination done immediately. I guess he wanted to make sure I wasn't insane or some shit.

"Have you been shot or stabbed in the last few months," the nurse asks machinically.

"Yes. Shot in shoulder. Stabbed in the abdomen." The nurse looks at me with pity. I guess she thinks I'm too young for such violence. I clench my jaw.

"Take off your top layers so I can examine you," she says quietly. I sigh heavily and do as I'm told. I silently wonder where Natasha is. They wouldn't let her stay.

Once I take off my clothing, the nurses in the room gasp. I wonder if it's the scars and tattoos or my physique. The look in some of their eyes tells me it's both.

"Oh my," she gasps. Her fingers trace the scars delicately and I tense up. I hate being touched. "It seems they've healed well and you look..strong. How many sexual partners have you had in the last year?"

I narrow my eyes at her. What is she getting at?

"Zero." She looks unconvinced but writes it down on her clipboard. Her foot taps on the ground as she reads the next question.

"Have you had any sexually transmitted diseases?" I shake my head. "I need to do a breast examine and a genital exam. Take off your clothing and-"

Suddenly, The nurse is gone and Natasha is in front of me looking pissed.

"She's healthy. Let's go Ash," she growls. She pulls me out of the room swiftly and I'm totally amused.

"You didn't want Nurse Jackie checking out the goods," I purr. She turns to glare at me and pulls me away faster.

"Shut it or we're not sharing a room."

My lips are sealed.


	3. Belong to

I was walking to the training room quite livid. Natasha had been on a mission for like three days now and Fury wouldn't let me go retrieve her. She had Barton of course but I wanted to make sure she was okay. If anything happened to her I would take the old man's other eye. I told him as much.

"Hey, Agent Kalika. Looking good."

I glared at the unfamiliar woman. She smirked at me as she passed. It took sooo much self control not to rip her head off. I began counting backwards like Bruce taught me to. It only helped a little bit.

I walked into the training room with deadly intent. I wanted to kill one of those punching bags. I decided to try to beat my personal record on the pull up bar first. Might as well continue my training here.

I pulled my leather jacket off and laid it on the ground. There was a little bucket of powder and I dipped my hands in it, rubbing them together. Once I jumped on the bar, all thoughts went away. Working out eased my mind like nothing else..except Tasha of course.

Halfway through my reps, Agent Hill came in without some recruits. I did my best to ignore their chattering and staring. I hated being looked at like a piece of meat. Only my Tasha could look at me like that. I jumped down from the bar with irritation touching my soul.

"Who's that? She's hot as fuck," one of the men hissed. I gritted my teeth as I moved toward the punching bags.

"I know right? I would totally hit that."

I punched the bag with ferocity. It moved like it didn't weigh like 200 lbs. I didn't even care about that. These idiots were talking shit thinking I couldn't hear them. I transferred my anger to the innocent punching bag.

"That is Agent Kalika. She was a deadly assassination before she even came to us," Hill scolded. Her voice was deadly calm. "She belongs to Agent Romanoff. If you touch her you will come up missing and we won't look for you."

I stopped punching suddenly. I turned around and smirked at the idiot recruits. They flinched at the dangerous look on my face. I decided to introduce myself to them.

I prowled over to them like they were prey. Agent Hill had an amused expression on her face. I liked the woman. She was professional and she didn't take kindly to bullshit.

"Hey, boots. I suggest you pay attention to Agent Hill," I began. My voice deadly calm. "Because if you don't, I will personally train you and I like to get numbers."

They looked at me in confusion and I peeked at Hill. She was so close to snickering that she had to turn away.

"Can I show them what the numbers are?"

Hill nodded silently with laughter threatening to burst from her throat. I grinned maniacally at the frightened recruits and crossed my toned arms. They looked like they knew military facing movements. If they didn't I'd teach them.

"Attention," I ordered. They snapped to attention sloppily. I guess they haven't been in for a while. "About, face!"

They turned on their heels and executed it somewhat well. I nodded at Hill with purses lips. We walked around the fools and gauged their military bearing for a moment.

"Extend to the left, march!"

They ran in place and lifted their left arms to get enough space. I could see the fear on their faces. They knew exactly what this meant. A little impromptu smoke session. Some of the men were looking rather confident though. They thought they were too strong to get smoked. I grinned evilly.

"Halt. At ease," I ordered. I walked up and down the neat row and looked all of them in the eye. "Some of you think you're too big and bad to get smoked. Guess what? You're deadly wrong."

I felt a little bad for the women in the group. They didn't deserve this but they had to learn to be a team again. The only way to do that is to break all of them down together. I got the okay from Hill and it was time to boogie.

"Attention! Half-right face," I yelled. They moved exactly as told. Turning half right and ready to be dropped. "Front leaning rest position, move!"

They dropped to the ground and got in the push up position. I smirked at some of the men as they snickered. It was time to party.

"Position of attention, move," I said calmly. They got up fast, looking confused. "Push up position, move."

They dropped down again. I continued this for about five minutes. There was a reason for all of these fuck-fuck games. If they took my boss and I as a joke, I'd treat them like a joke.

"The eight count push up," I said enthusiastically. They repeated my statement back to me as was custom. I smiled at their obedience. "In candence, execute."

They dropped to the ground, did two push ups, then jumped back up. Only to drop to the ground again. I chatted with Hill as they continued to huff and puff. It only took 15 of the extended push ups for their counting to turn into whines.

"The push up," I called. They called back to me with sweat dripping from their heads like a faucet. I circled them like a predator. "You will give me to the numbers that I ask for. You will not stop until I get my numbers. Understood?"

"Yes, drill sergeant," they chorused. Maria and I laughed. I was smoking them so bad they thought I was a drill sergeant. That was hilarious.

"In cadence! I want one hundred and fifty push ups. If you get on your knees you will start over. Execute," I said, growling. "All of you are a team. You will not act like a bunch of individuals just because you're out of the military. You will keep your bearing and your respect or this will happen everyday. Roger?"

They screamed a "Yes Drill Sergeant" and I walked back over to the bags. Leaving Maria to watch over her insolent agents. I couldn't stand to see their gross sweat pooling on the ground.

I felt a lot better now. Maybe every time Natasha left I could borrow some new recruits and play a little fuck-fuck game?

"I heard what you did to those poor recruits," Natasha said from behind me.

I smiled brightly and turned around. The punching bag was completely forgotten. She had a busted lip but I couldn't see any other injuries. I refrained from jumping on her though. I just embraced her softly.

"I missed you so much," I whispered. Her arms held me tightly, hands rubbing up my back. "And those recruits had it coming."

She chuckled in my ear and smacked me on the ass. I yelped and pulled away from her. She was stronger than she looked. I rubbed my sore ass like a child.

"That's what you get. You can't take your anger out on other people," she said, smirking. I rolled my eyes at her logic.

"You saying I should wait to take it out on you? You wouldn't let me do that."

She backed away slowly with that smirk growing like wildfire. I couldn't help but stare at her as she bit her plump lip. She knew just how to make me go crazy.

"Come and see for yourself."


	4. Mami

I don't know what's worse. Being the soul mate of an assassin or being an assassin with another assassin as your soul mate.

Natasha likes to act like I'm helpless sometimes. She brings me food and gives me foot massages. She makes me the little spoon every night like I _want_ that. I'm not complaining but still.

Our relationship is codependent in the strictest meaning of the word. Not one of us is the superior of the other butttt Natasha likes to act like she is. I let her and I laugh at her behind her back because that how I am. But I can't laugh at this.

The worst thing is that she tries to fight my battles for me like I'm some little child. If somebody hits on me they mysteriously end up with a broken arm or bloody nose. If someone gets smart with me they lose a tooth. It's ridiculous.

I try to tell her I'm just as capable as her but it's no use. She's a mom at heart even though she can't have her own children. What she doesn't seem to understand is I'm her _lover_ not her child. You can't have both..that's disgusting.

( _Role play ideas popping into my head)_

What pushed me off the edge was the sex. I could fuck her like a whore all day long. I could bend her over and pull her hair while I pounded her hard. That's all well and good but when it comes to me, nope. I get made love to. What a load of shit..

"Jesus Christ," I moaned. My nails dug into Nat's back like I was trying to rip it open. She didn't scold me. I felt her smirk into my neck. "Don't flatter yourself mate-oh shit."

My sweaty body tensed up she hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of me. I opened my legs further to let her in. What I really wanted was to be fucked right now. She didn't even take it upon herself to answer my unspoken plea.

Natasha kept her slow pace. Not going in too deep and not too hard. It was like she was scared of hurting me or some shit. So annoying but so sweet. It wouldn't do.

I locked my legs around her ass to pull her in. She resisted my pull and looked at me in confusion. I rolled my eyes at her display of innocence. I guess she didn't remember I was an escort and..I happen to like it rough.

"Fuck me, Natasha," I said, wantonly. Her eyes widened at my words like it was the first time I cursed.

"What," she mumbled. I scoffed at her and pushed her off me. She looked kinda hurt but it didn't last long. "What are you doing?"

I pushed her onto her back and mounted her easily. I slid down the strap on with some effort. The thing was as thick as my wrist but it felt so good attached to my love.

"I'm not a child, Tash," I moaned, riding her. Her eyes were lidded as she watched me move atop her. Her hands gripped my waist tightly. "I like to be fucked hard."

I rode her harder and faster feeling it in my stomach. It was so hot seeing her beneath me, watching me. I didn't think I would last much longer.

"I like to be controlled. Can you do that," I said, moving to whisper in her ear. Natasha bit her lip hard and thrusted into me. I grunted at the force of it. "Yeah, like that. Fuck me."

She wrapped her arms around me tightly to keep me still. I loved the feeling of being surrounded by her and controlled. At her complete and utter mercy. I braced myself for her wrath that I'd yet to experience.

"All you had to do was say something, darling," she rasped. I went wide eyed at the teasing tone in her voice and went to move. She didn't even budge an inch at all. "No, no. Brace yourself."

I took a deep breath to scold her for toying with me and suddenly there was no words. Just pleasure and...her name.

I limped down the corridor with a deadly look on my face. People snickered as thy passed me making it that much worse. I vowed to kick Natasha's ass when I saw her. I should **not** be this sore for any reason.

I made my way to the training room without castrating anyone, a generous feat. I walked in and looked around like a predator. Natasha had left me this morning for some reason and I knew it had to be this place.

Like I thought, she was over in the corner sparring with Barton's annoying ass. If he commented on anything I would hit him in the dangly bits. That idiot had it coming to day just like Natasha's sexy ass..I mean stupid. Yeah, that.

"So, you just leave me in the bed sore as shit and alone? That's what we do now?"

Natasha and Clint turned around in confusion. I stood with my hands on my hips glaring at my lover. She looked scared at first before it faded into amusement. I sneered at her dismissal.

"I didn't know you be so _butt-hurt_ over it," she snickered. Clint clutched his stomach in laughter. I growled at them and stomped my foot like a child. "You need a cookie babe?"

I wanted to explode into a million tiny pieces at being made a joke of. These two shits have it coming. I swear to god I will get her back for this crap one way or another.

"Kali, you liked it. You asked for it. Why are you complaining," she asked, moving toward me like a predator. I paled at her husky tone. I knew what it meant immediately. "You want more, is that it? All you have to do is ask."

I stared at her as she stopped in front of me. I could feel her breasts just barely grazing my ribs. My height advantage did me no good against her sex appeal. I could never ever hope to resist her in anything she did to tease me.

"Gotta go, Barton," she called, not even looking back at her grinning friend. Our eyes stayed connected having their own silent conversation. "Baby duty."

I didn't even flinch at her little jab. I only had one thing on my mind. She took my hand and pulled me out of the training room with ease. Anticipation built inside me ready to explode like a Semtex.

I guess she's my Mami now..


	5. Where is my mind? (09-07 16:18:27)

-o0o-

 **For some reason, I think getting our own apartment was a bad idea...**

 _I was nursing my vodka like it was a baby. Tasha was out on some mission with Barton that I couldn't help with. I curse Fury for everything. It was the very last of the bottle that she had gotten me. I found it ironic that Nastasha liked vodka and told her as much. We had laughed and made jabs at each other like an old married couple._

 _I took another sip without even flinching as tears fell. I wondered what she was doing. If she had taken any bullets or if she was kicking ass. I hoped she thought of me like she said she did. I hope I give her strength._

 _A thump from upstairs carried down to my ears. I sighed heavily. Of course someone would break in when my deadly mate isn't around to save me. Not like I need her to but still._

 _I gulped the rest of my vodka and got up from my bar stool. Marched right over to my handy dandy drawer in the kitchen. My organized disorganization came in clutch tonight. I fumbled around drunkenly and found my handgun._

 _It was heavy in my hand but I welcomed it. It meant life or death. I really don't want to use my powers in the house. I checked the clip silently and cocked it real slow like I was taught. The sound of steps on the stairs almost made my heart stop. Almost._

 _I creeped toward the staircase on the balls of my feet. Taking of note of the spots on the wooden floor that I knew creaked. I hid behind a wall beside it and froze as they came closer._

 _You got this, I said in my mind. You can kill these motherfuckers. You're an assassin...even if you're drunk as shit._

 _I came from behind the wall with my gun raised, aiming it at the man's chest. He wore all black and one of his arms looked like it was made of metal. His outfit looked like a male catsuit. In my drunken mind, I had the urge to laugh at him and it took effort not to._

 _"Who the fuck are you and what are you wearing," I asked angrily. Okay, it slipped. Sue me._

 _The man's pale face scrunched up with anger and he lunged at me. I fired off some shots aimlessly as we fell to the ground. Air rushed out of my lungs forcefully under his weight._

 _I fought fruitlessly. The man grabbed my arms and held them down. I couldn't even move under his immense strength._

 _All of a sudden, two men came out of nowhere. One of them brandished a huge needle out of nowhere. I screamed and struggled as it came down towards my neck._

 _"No," I screamed. I hated needles. Especially needles that held unknown substances. Fire began to rush to my fingertips in vain._

 _It pierced the skin and I stopped moving as the liquid slid through my veins thickly. Everything blurred together as they carried me out the door into the dark night._

 _The last painless memory I had for a while was being thrown into a vehicle. Nothing would prepare me for what lie ahead._

 _-o0o-_

I heard a saying one time. It said that pain is an indication that you're still alive. Or was it that pain is weakness leaving the body? Whatever it was, they were both true. The more pain they inflicted the less I screamed. The more shocks they administered to my body, the less I cried.

At first, I thought they wanted my screams. The sheer roaring that erupted from my chest. The tears that fell like snow upon my cold flesh. Turns out, they sought my silence and indifference. They wanted my eyes to turn from pleading orbs to balls of icy hatred.

I remember the words they pumped into my brain. _Hate. She will never save you._ _Cold. She never loved you. Hate Black Widow. Kill her. Destroy. Winter. Winter. You are Winter. You are cold._ It repeated so much that I forgot my own name.

I didn't understand at first, but then the videos came. They showed me images of her. They shocked me each time I said her name. Shocked me each time I reached out. Cut me each time I called for her until I was utterly silent. Until I went into fits of rage at the sight of her beautiful face.

They beat me to a pulp after each video. Leaving me bleeding and bruised from head to toe. They repeated it until I was on the verge of death. Until I begged for it in my mind.

The Cold Room came as a welcomed form of torture after they'd drowned me and shocked me in the water. I was just happy that the beatings had ceased. After they'd done some sort of experiment on me it was time to test it out. I remember the pain of the liquid they injected into vividly. It was like ice spreading through my veins. I already had the ability to wield ice. I didn't understand why they would introduce more.

They threw me into a cold, utterly white room. The food they gave me was white. The tray they served it on was white. My clothes were white. They even dyed my hair white. **White** everywhere.

The mind is a faulty and volatile mound of gray matter. Sensory deprivation turns to sensory overload rather quickly. The cold of the room transformed my hullucinations into the dead of winter. Snow fell around me and piled on top of my body. Icicles like spikes grew from the walls that seemed to close in on me.

I don't know how long I stayed in that room. All I know is I came out a different person. The embodiment of everything cold and desolate. Warmth and fire meant nothing. Ice formed at my fingertips as the guards came in to collect me. Sharp spikes of ice extended from the walls begging for flesh to pierce.

" _You've survived our most harsh experiment yet,_ " a man said behind me in Russian. I stared at my cold hands as ice crept over my fingers. The man talked like a mad scientist. " _You are quite exquisite, so we've decided to let you choose your name. Do not make me regret it."_

I looked from my hands to the frost covered wall in front of me. I didn't remember my old name. I didn't even want to know it. I would choose my destiny from here on out. After I killed her. _**No**_ , something in my mind whispered. **She is ours.**

I decided to ignore it for now.

" _Cold Hands_ ," I whispered hoarsely. Memories of my fingers almost falling off from the cold came rushing back. My voice evoked images of a past of torture. The way it sounded like I had just finished screaming and didn't have the energy to speak.

The creepy man clapped with glee at my revelation. He ranted about his new assassin and finishing up my extensive training. I barely listened to it at all. I'd let the fool teach me everything he needed me to know. Then I'd leave and find that bitch and finish her once and for all. She had yet to come save me. She _failed me._

They trained me 24 hours a day. Pumping knowledge and fighting techniques into my brain. Teaching different languages and beating the dog shit out of me when I failed to execute a move correctly.

This time though, I wasn't as easily bruised. I was stronger and faster. I processed everything with exquisite speed. Whatever they gave me did wonders for healing. I rarely ever felt tired or cold. All I felt was rage and a terrible tugging pain in my chest tightened with time.

A while after I finished, something big happened.

I was sitting in my room, more like a cell, when the sirens went off in the building. The red lights in the hallway spun and spun in warning of an intruder. I sat motionless in my room waiting for something to happen. Waiting to kill something.

A guard ran to my door, unlocking it. His pale face was red with alarm as he ranted in Russian about me getting ready to fight. I ignored him and strode down the hallway. Face emotionless and cold. Readying for an epic fight or maybe even my escape.

I heard bangs and thumps coming from everywhere. Explosions erupted from ahead and I just kept walking. Someone has a vendetta, I mused. Vladimir has gotten himself in deep with an organization and they've come for blood. I'll give it to them.

Two men came around the corner, running. They stopped as they saw me. Recognition flooded their eyes. I knew them as well. Captain America and Hawkeye. Two of the men I was meant to kill. Images flooded my brain and the rage came to the forefront of my mind. Time to kill.

I extended my hands and let ice burst forth. It felt like freedom. They flew back into the far wall hard. I smiled and unsheathed my sword. It felt heavy and cold in my hands. It looked like the blade was made of blue ice. They'd made it for me on my last day of training. Saying that it was impossible to break.

"Stop," Hawkeye yelled. He struggled to get up with the heavy ice weighing him down. I ignored him. "Natasha is here. We've come to rescue you!"

I stopped in my tracks. My brain felt like it was splitting in half. They said she'd never come, my mind whispered. Of course she came. She's your soul mate.

I growled like a beast and grabbed my head with my free hand. Before I knew what was going on more people came to join us. When I raised my eyes she was there. The Black Widow. The target. Red flooded my vision as the pain came back.

I charged forward with all my might to try and take off her head. Rage clouded all of my senses. All I could see was red. She had caused me this pain. This torture that I had endured was her doing and I would kill her for it. I ignored the look of overwhelming sorrow that was marring her face.

A sharp blow hit the back of my head out of nowhere and I fell to my knees. I coughed a little and tried to stand. I couldn't see who it was behind me as I struggled to turn around. I received another in return. Everything went black.

-o0o-

I don't know how long I slept. I was told it was about three days. I don't believe it because it felt like years. Dream after nightmare after dream passed before my eyes like short lifetimes. I saw the face of my target more than I wanted to but still not enough. All I could do was endure it.

When I finally woke up, I was restrained to a hospital bed. Nurses moved about checking my vitals and changing my fluids. When they saw I was awake they bolted from the room like I'd told them I had a bomb. It made me laugh maniacally.

I waited for what seemed like ages for someone to enter. The white room was bringing back memories that I didn't want to relive. Coldness and dread. Icy spikes of death piercing my skin.

When the door opened it was a faintly familiar face.

A black man walked in slowly. He had a eye patch on his face that made me think of pirates. I chuckled loudly at the thought. He just looked at me stoically and sat beside my bed.

"My name is Director Fury. Do you know remember me," he asked quietly. I just stared at him blankly. Nothing came to my mind. "Do you know what year it is?"

I thought hard for a moment. The last year I remember was 2018. I didn't know how long I had been kept by the Russian scum. All I know is that it was entirely too long.

"2018," I said, unsure. He looked disbelieving for a moment until he saw the look on my face. I truly didn't know.

"It is April of 2019. Your name is Ashton Winters, Codename Kalika. You were born on July 6th of 1998 and given up for adoption the following year. Your soul mate is Na-"

I grunted and thrashed as he began to say her name. A trigger in my mind had been set off. Rage tried to envelope me in its hold once more, causing ice to form at my fingertips.

"We retrieved your records from the Hydra operatives. It says you went through pain conditioning, water torture, sensory deprivation, and experimentation," he continued. I settled down a bit at the subject change and laughed evilly. The way he listed off the tortures took away from their intensity and horror. "Your most recent code name is Cold Hands. Correct?"

I nodded lazily and ordered the ice on my fingers to retreat. Fury watched as it disappeared back into my skin. He seemed intrigued.

"What took your eye," I asked, nonchalantly. I wanted to see him squirm but I had no such luck. He just stared at me.

"It wasn't the same thing that took your humanity. I can tell you that," he said. He didn't sound mean. I could hear sympathy. I didn't need that.

"You know, I'm happy to see a black man for once. I've been surrounded by pale men for too long," I snarked. His lips twitched a little at my statement. Being the only black person had been the least of my worries but I wanted to comment on it to change topics.

"It seems you have an aversion to her. I would like to suggest working on that if you want to be of any use," I tensed dramatically. "If you decide not to cooperate we will have to put you down."

I took deep breaths to expel her face from my mind. All of the torture came back all at once. I barely noticed Fury leaving until I had finally calmed down. The room looked like the middle of December.


	6. Cold

**"And the fire won't burn**

 **Cause my body's too cold."**

 **-o0o-**

 **Failsafe**

My hands blurred as I hit the heavy punching bag, over and over again. The bag moved like it weighed nothing and I felt unsatisfied. I can faintly remember before the **pain** , when I had to put effort into the bag for it to move. Back when I could feel something other than coldness. I wonder what it's like to touch and feel something.

What is the definition of cold though? It is the absence of heat. The lack of something, that is what I am now. The only time I really feel is when I hear _her_ name. When I'm dreaming of her face, sweat dripping from my brow. I remember being able to feel something soft and yielding for her, but now all I feel is rage and cynicism.

Although, I've gotten so good at hiding it that I'm allowed to be free. I can even be in the same room with her, now that they have me in this _Avengers Tower._ It was the one condition Fury had for letting me be free. I can't say that the these _heroes_ don't annoy me.

"Hey, Ash- Cold Hands," Hawkeye calls, strolling toward me cautiously. I punch the bag one last time, sending it sliding away from me. He stops a few feet away, his pulse jumping is the only indication of fear.

"What is it, Barton," I said, voice annoyed and raspy. I finally managed to get my voice to sound almost normal.

"Natasha is coming in to train. Steve and I as well...If you want to stay or leave, that's your choice," Barton said, cautiously. In my mind, the beast rattles in it's cage to get free. I want to snap his snap.

Outwardly, I nod in understanding, mouth pulling into a fake smile. His eyes display his happiness and I turn away, smile disappearing. His earnest need for me to get better irritates me. I'm not accustomed to kindness.

I hop onto the pull up bar and begin my set as he runs off to tell the others. _She didn't go insane,_ I imagine him whispering. _This is a good sign._ Clint is like a child when it comes to her. He wishes for only the best and he seems to think it's me. I don't recall if that is true or not. They call us soulmates but I call it a tattoo.

I pull myself up and down robotically as they flood into the room. Barton and Steve try to keep their glances discreet, but I catch them all. When _she_ walks in, she doesn't try to hide the way her eyes run over me. I curse myself for not wearing a shirt. My mask of indifference twitches for the first time in a while.

She prowls over to the sparring mat with Barton and Steve in tow. My eyes follow the way she walks. She is like a predator hunting invisible prey. It is unlike anything I've ever seen before. My mind begs to destroy her, but my body wants to destroy her in other ways. I take deep breaths to calm myself.

"You ready, Barton," she said, cracking her knuckles. Her sultry voice sounded like it was right next to my ear, making me clench my teeth. I should have never come here. I'm too attuned to everything she does.

"Always am," Barton said, throwing a punch. I stuttered in my pull ups as they began to fight. Natasha moved so fluidly, like water, countering and blocking all of his punches. I still wanted to snap Barton's neck though.

 _Did I just say her name?_

I glanced at the pull-up bar in front of my face and noticed ice forming on it. I jumped down with ease and sighed heavily. My arms aren't even tired. Heavy footfalls sound behind me and my body tenses up like a cat, readying to pounce.

"Would you like to spar," Steve said behind me, voice kind as ever. I turned around slowly, eyebrows raised. No one had dared to challenge me since I got here. He seemed worthy enough.

"Fuck yeah. I need to take some anger out," I said, smirking. Steve smiled at me and I tried to smile back. Which only resulted in an even bigger smirk. I almost laughed when his eyes widened. "Let's go soldier."

We walked over to the mat separate from the other two. I could see in them both in my peripherals, stopping to watch us as we got into position. Natasha's face held a concerned look that annoyed me. I am not the weakling that she knew before. I can barely remember who I was before.

"The rules are no powers, no scratching or biting, and no low blows," Steve said, raising his huge fists up to his chin. I stood casually with my hands at my side, lips pulled into a small smirk. Beside us, Natasha and Barton had completely forgotten their own training.

"Deal. Just don't be angry when you lose to a girl," I said, casually. Steve laughed and cracked his knuckles hard. I rolled my eyes at him. Men and their need to intimidate. I'll show Natasha how different I am.

"I'll try to take it easy on you," he said, before charging at me full speed.

Everything seemed to slow down for me as I watched him come toward me. I didn't raise my fists or tense up at all. When his fist carreened toward my face, I grabbed his wrist and yanked him past me, sending him into the wall with his own momentum. I chuckled as his head hit the wall.

"Too bad you don't have your little shield," I taunted, checking my nails. Natasha and Barton looked like they had seen a ghost. No doubt wondering what exactly Hydra had put in my veins.

Steve pushed off the wall and charged at me again. I decided not to use his body against him this time. I blocked his punches fast, body moving of its own accord. His face contorted with anger when I laughed at his futile attempts. Captain tried to up his force but I'd already had enough.

I grabbed his wrists and kicked him in the chest hard. Natasha and Barton moved out of the way as he flew past them, sliding across the floor. Barton looked at him and back at me in awe, while Natasha kept her expression neutral. I just smirked and crossed my arms.

"You're pretty good," Natasha said, stepping toward me cautiously. My face went slack as she began circling me, that familiar feeling of rage threatened to surface. "But can you beat me? That's the question."

I blinked heavily as memories flashed into my mind, wiping my eyes to clear them. Barton and Steve had disappeared so fast that I didn't notice. This must have been some sort of plan. I felt like a caged animal alone with her. I could barely keep from lashing out.

I inhaled deeply and forced a smirk on my face. She really wants to die. "I don't think that would be a good idea. You'll need more than those two pricks to stop me from killing you. Surely, they went to get the others," I said, voice descending into darkness as I finished speaking. My hands froze over with ice.

She stopped in front of me and stared into my eyes, searching for something. "I don't think I do, Ash. I think you're softening up. I can see the woman I love in there. I just have to dig her out." I flinched when she said that name. My head felt like it was being pierced with with icepicks. Memories came crashing in.

I rolled my neck as the pain intensified, trying not to show any feeling. **You don't need feelings,** Vladimir had said. **They're ours now.** I laughed suddenly, remembering his ugly face. Natasha didn't seem surprised by my outburst. Her eyes were just sad and searching.

" _Why are you looking at me like that, Natasha,"_ I said in Russian. Her eyes widened, shock evident on her face. I grinned at her maniacally. " _They flooded my brain with your language. Told me that I needed to get as close to you as possible and still be able to kill you when they let me loose. Beat me until my accent was just right."_

Natasha's eyes watered and I cocked my head to the side. _What is this?_ As a tear fell, I gripped my chest in agony. Pain erupted there in the form of a horrible pulling sensation. It was worse than the beatings. It was worse than the White Room. Seeing that tear was a torture unheard of. I fell to my knees and whimpered quietly.

"I never let you see me cry and I regret that. I regret not telling how much I love you before I left for that mission. I regret listening to Fury when he told me not to go after you. Most of all, I regret ever becoming the Black Widow because I can't give you the life you deserve," Natasha said, moving closer to me with each word until she was hovering over me.

" **No. You failed me,** " I roared at her. I knew that my eyes had turned that inky black color when she stopped moving forward. Something inside me wanted her to come to me. Wanted her touch to soothe and heal, but the monster would not let it show. " **You left me for me dead and I've died. That girl is gone. They beat her out of me and I feel nothing for you."**

Natasha smiled then. Not a smile of happiness or glee. A smile of determination and full on will power. Something inside my mind told me that she wouldn't stop until I accepted her. I didn't want to show how bad I wished for it.

She sank to her knees in front of me and I flinched slightly. Natasha's hand reached out slowly towards my face, swiping across my cheek. My face scrunched up in confusion as she lifted her thumb up. On her fingers was wetness. Wetness that had come from me. A tear had fallen from _**my eye.** How is that possible?_

Ashton Winters, I love you," Natasha said, adamantly, her lips quivering. As I raised my hands to turn her into an ice sculpture, she grabbed my face, smashing her lips against my own.

 ** _Fire._**

And just like that, everything holding me together fell into a million tiny pieces.

I could hear voices in my head as she pulled away from me. They drowned out her voice and the feeling of her hands caressing my emotionless face. It felt like a fire was burning me alive inside this shell of a body. The fire raced through my body, moving from the inside out. Encompassing everything.

" _What is the failsafe, Volkov? The switch that will turn off her conditioning," Vladimir said by my feet. Volkov, the evil scientist, grunted at him in irritation. "There has to be a failsafe so we can condition her against it._

 _Volkov sneered with his yellow teeth._

 _"If the bitch kisses her, it's done. She'll crash. Although, she won't ever be completely the same."_

 _Vladimir growled and slammed his fist down on something. "That is too easy. There has to be something you can do about that."_

 _"It's not my fault that you chose her, Vlad. You knew that she'd bonded to the Widow but you still took her in. All you can do is try to condition her against her mate."_

Tears streamed down my face and I blinked them away. Warm hands held me in place, wiping them as they fell. "Ash," Natasha said, quietly. Her voice seemed to clear my mind and sooth the ache in my chest.

I sobbed as my vision cleared and I saw my Natasha for the first time. Pristine and untainted by intrusive thoughts of murder and torture. "I am so sorry," I cried, brokenly. It felt like I had failed her. I had.

Natasha shook her head adamantly and pecked my lips. That beautiful warmth flooded me again and I wanted more. It felt like being kissed by sun on a winters day.

"Don't apologize, love. It's not your fault. You didn't choose any of this. None of us did," she said, wrapping her arms around me. I flinched a bit but willed my arms to reciprocate. We melted into each other like I had never left.

"I love you," I whispered, fingers tangling in her flaming hair. Natasha laughed tearfully and tightened her grip. I moaned as her warmth seeped into my cold body, holding her tightly. I've missed this for so long.

"As I love you," she said, pulling back to look at me. I stared into her eyes deeply and tears came back, blurring my vision. So much love in those green eyes. So much relief.

I needed her to kiss me again and make me feel alive. Memories of our lovemaking hit me as my fingertips traced over her neck and Natasha peppered kisses all over my face. Only she can give me that fire and warmth that I haven't felt in so long. I never wanted her to stop touching me.

"Kiss me, please. Promise you'll make me whole again," I whispered, brokenly. Tears rolled down her beautiful face and I wiped them away dilligently. My soul mate, what have I done to you?

"I promise," she said, kissing me hard. I moaned as her hands left trails of fire over my skin. My nails dug into her back as an all encompassing lust overwhelmed me.

"I promise I'll fix you."


	7. Poacher's Pride

**" _I shot an angel_**

 ** _With my father's rifle_**

 ** _I should have set it free_**

 ** _But I let it bleed_**

 ** _Made it into taxidermy_**

 ** _Hung it on my wall_**

 ** _On my wall."_**

 ** _-Nicole Dollanganger_**

 ** _-o0o-_**

 _"What do you want from me? I haven't done anything to you!"_

 _I advance forward without any remorse. You do what you're ordered and that's all that matters. Whether or not you like it is of no consequence. This woman had to have done something wrong to get Vladimir's attention. She **had** to. Didn't she? _

_"Please don't do this! I'm begging you," she screams, tears roll down her anguished face like rivers. I'm curious as to why she's so distraught. Death is preferable to what I could be doing to her, to what they're doing to **me.**_

 _As I grab her face in my cold hands, I recognize her. The red hair and the freckles. Those green eyes burn my black ones as I stare into them. She looks like an angel. She's only missing her wings is all. If she had them I would pluck them out feather by feather. I know why they gave her to me now. It is a test._

 _"You're beautiful," I whisper, voice quiet and hoarse from screaming. She looks to calm down for a moment and I shake my head slowly. A foreign moistness coming to my coal black eyes. "I apologize."_

 _Ice spikes shoot from my hands into her brain. My hands tremble as I freeze her body over completely. An ice statue, forever immortalized as the angel that I killed. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, tears frozen on her cheeks. Something breaks in me then, arms pull me from the room._

 _I did not cry._

"Ash, wake up."

I open my eyes with a start and breathe heavily. Sweat pools on my brow but my hands are so cold. I look up suddenly and see Natasha staring at me in concern. My body shakes to put my hands around her throat and instead I wrap my arms around her waist.

She hesitantly touches me. She knows that I crave her touch more than air but that too much at once is dangerous.

I shake in her arms as the pictures of girls flash through my mind. So many women that looked like her, so many angels. Dying by my hands or the barrel of a gun or my sword. All mirroring her. None managed to make me shed a tear. It was like killing love incarnate. I don't think I could have ever managed to harm her. I can't fathom it any more.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She has asked me this so many times and gotten the same answer each time. _Silence. The shake of a head._ I don't like talking much unless it's a snarky remark or sarcasm. Now, I can't give her that. I want her to know what I've done to myself, what I've done to her indirectly. She needs to know what sort of monster she is in love with.

I killed girls. Because they looked like you. For that reason and that reason only. I tortured some of them. I killed _all_ of them."

Natasha pulls back and looks at me with that expression on her face that says so much. It always confuses me. It is a mixture of lust, love, and anguish. I can't breathe. All of the emotions buried in my old self surface for a moment and I can't think straight.

"Do you regret it? Killing all of those innocent souls for nothing?"

Her hand wraps around my throat, the other gripping my hair, and suddenly I'm in a world filled with love. It is sad that I can only feel good when I'm in pain, however dull. Natasha sinks her teeth into my cheek when I fail to answer her. My nails dig into her naked back with vigor and I'm home.

"No.."

I am telling the truth and she squeezes my neck hard, choking my air supply. I am telling the truth and I hate myself for that. Regret and guilt are only in my dreams. True love is a blurred mirror that I gaze in when I look at her, when her hands wrap around my throat.

Natasha watches my face contort into a look of pure relief as I begin to lose consciousness. Her green eyes light up with recognition and she lets go slowly. It's like a switch turns off in me and everything comes flooding back. That numbness is coming in waves again. I need to feel something drastic and I know she knows.

"Ash. I forgive you," Natasha said, nails scraping down the front of my body. My muscles tense beneath the sting and my eyes roll back. "We have so much more in common than I thought. I can help you heal. We can help each other heal."

My face scrunches in confusion before I realize my utter selfishness. I am not the only one in pain. Natasha has her demons too. The ones that scream at her to gain control of everything. To take, take, take. She too sleeps lightly and wakes up at godly hours while I'm squirming against the hold of my nightmares. Dominance is what she craves to heal, submission is what I need. Submission and pain.

Natasha smiles around my nipple as she bites down hard. I suck in air through my nose hard and struggle as she holds my arms to the bed. I could easily move but that's the point isn't it? Giving over power. And god do I want that. I'm so sick of being strong. I'm so sick of her caving under my disabilities.

"You may not regret killing those women now, but I'll make you. And after that, I'll make you forgive yourself." Her voice is strong and sure and I'm stunned into silence.

Because those foreign tears that never spilled over are streaming. I always thought that whatever God there is what come after me. They would come to claim pound of flesh until there is nothing left, and I was right. Except my god is one of the angels that I had yet to kill.

I hope that she destroys what left of the monster inside me and reveals what little of the old me remains.

 ** _"I shot an angel_**

 ** _Dragged it to my basement_**

 ** _Starved it til it died_**

 ** _And I did not cry_**

 ** _Sickness of Poacher's Pride."_**

 ** _-Nicole Dollanganger_**


	8. There's nothing you can do to me

_Updated._

 ** _"I'll be bound to you_**

 ** _In leather and chains,_**

 ** _I'll be your sister_**

 ** _Your young bride_**

 ** _Your angel_**

 ** _Your slave."_**

 **-o0o-**

 **Fingertips** tickle down my back, light but ever present. I shiver against the feeling, lips curling up into a smile that I've finally remembered how to achieve. Natasha rewards me with a kiss and hands smoothing down my moist skin. I revel in her affection but remain subdued. Always mindful of her control.

"Let's go again," Natasha said, gesturing for me to stand. I grin and hop to my feet expertly, ready for a rematch. At first, I thought I would win but Tash surprised me with her speed. Always one step ahead. I began to wonder what the Red Room did to her.

She circles me like a predator. I can literally feel her eyes moving over me as I tense up. I lock onto her wild eyes and watch them shift to each part of me, feeling aroused suddenly. At this moment, I decide that I want to win. Which, in turn, means losing again.

I strike out wildly and try to grab my mate with strong hands. My aim is true and I manage to trap her arms easily. Natasha scowls at me, already sensing where I'm going with this. I want to laugh but instead I pull her forward into a bear hug, trapping her further. She struggles harder than I expect.

"What? You don't like being in my arms anymore," I taunt her, smirking at her attempts to get free.

Natasha stops momentarily and rolls her eyes at me. "You know that's not the problem, Ash. I know what you're trying to do."

I lick my lips at her words. Of course she does. I tackle her to the ground easily, using my body as a cage when we hit the mat. My black widow tries to crawl away from me. All calculated movements and lithe limbs. Something feral overtakes me then. It's like an animal trying to claim its meal. My hand wraps around her throat and suddenly she's so angry. In the back of my mind, I know I'm wrong. I know I'm relapsing but I can't stop myself. I feel out of control.

"Let go of me," Natasha grunts, my hand constricts slightly and she's seeing red. I can almost see a flicker of fear in her eyes. _Yes._

"If you don't-"

She doesn't finish her sentence. Instead, I find myself on my stomach with a knee in my back and a strong arm around my neck. I moan as she constricts my airway. Seeing stars is an understatement for what she does to me. It's like falling into the center of a black hole. Being ripped into shreds only to come out a new being with purpose. This is what she gives me.

"You like making me angry don't you? Especially in public places. Our team mates could come in at anytime but you would like that wouldn't you? Letting them see me fuck you within an inch of your life," she growls. My body clenches up at her words and I nod as best I can. I want it.

"Well it's not happening. Maybe Barton but no one else. You belong to me and you would do well to remember that. Matter of fact. I'll show you."

Her arm releases me and I groan in disapproval, only to receive a hard smack on the ass. She walks away suddenly, boots hitting the ground with a click. I lie there on my stomach, smiling as the door to the training room locks. I know what's next and I want to strip for her but I know I'm not supposed to move. I want to defy her for more punishment.

"Get on your knees." A whip. Her voice is different now, commanding and harsh. I obey her immediately. Without hesitation.

I can see her grabbing a remote out of the corner of my eye. It is small and black, unsuspecting. One might think it's for a tv but really it's for a secret compartment. I still don't know how she got Tony to say yes to this. Maybe because he wanted to watch on the cameras. I don't really care.

A lone tile in the floor comes up and a rack slowly begins to rise up from beneath. My breath catches in my throat. I haven't seen this before. I thought that she was just getting the flogger or the gag. Four leather restraints are attached to the rack, obviously for my four limbs. I scoff internally as she gives me a serious look. _Those can't hold me back._

Come here," she says, voice different. It's like she isn't enjoying this now. My chest tightens as I stand up and I'm alarmed. I don't know what it is but something is not right here. Usually, she loves this as much as I do.

As I reach her, her finger lies on a certain button that I haven't noticed. My brows furrow when she presses it as soon as I come close to her. I look at her oddly when nothing happens. Her eyes are sad but intense. It's like she has to do something she doesn't want to do.

"What's wrong Tash-"

I scream as my arms and legs are restrained painfully. I struggle hard but to no avail. Looking up to my wrist, I see steel cables as thick as branches snake around them. I try to pull my ankles and arms free with everything I have but it doesn't work. My hands begin to ice over as memories I thought I'd forgotten came back to me. I could feel my eyes inking over into black, itching horribly. I scream in anguish as phantom pain racks my body.

"You can stop struggling now, Ash. That's titanium steel. Not even you can escape that," Natasha says behind me. I sneer at her voice. I should've killed her when I had the chance. The bitch is still a traitor. I feel scissors at my back cutting my sports bra up the middle to expose my back and I don't feel too good.

"I know what you're thinking right now and no. I'm not going to kill you. But...I will take whatever is plaguing you away. I have to." Her voice is full of emotion. I can't process it in my haze of murderous rage but if I could I would feel horrible.

The hissing of something meets my ears and I panic. It coils and drags on the ground as she comes closer to my back. "Natasha, you better stop this," my voice is uncharacteristiclay deep and growling. I try to retreat back to the real me but I can't. My body is slowly falling away from me.

"Can't do that, Ash. You lost control and I have to give it back...for good."

I growl and muster up enough strength to try and break free. Only to be stopped by the most searing pain. The cracking of a whip ends at my exposed back. The sound is thunderous but my pain is even worse. I tense up and stop my scream from bursting forth. I won't give her the satisfaction. I won't give anyone the satisfaction of hearing my screams again.

She pulls the whip back and cracks it forward again. I catch my breath as the pain floods my system. My blood trickles down my back slowly, tickling my skin. Almost immediately, another strike hits like lightning. This time I gasp aloud, unable to keep it in. With this pain comes a pleasure that I don't expect. It's foreign and stronger than I've ever felt before. My womanhood clenches hard as another stroke lays into my skin, opening me up.

 _I moan._

"Who do you belong to," Natasha says. Her voice is strict and unrelenting. I still refuse to give her what she wants. Even though I want it too.

 _"She belongs to us. Her so called soul mate hasn't come for her yet. I say, she never will. Free game."_

The whip finds it mark in the middle of my back and I arch forward at the force of it. A whimper escapes me without my knowledge and I feel faint. She doesn't waste time hitting me faster. Tears stream down my face. I can't get a break. I feel surrounded by pain and pleasure. There is **no end to this.**

Finally, I sob and slump in my binds. My arms ache and my back is trickling blood down to my ass. "Who do you belong to, Ash? Tell me," she asks, suddenly close to my back. I gasp between sobs, trying to stutter out her name.

"Y-You. I belong t-to you."

Natasha hums in approval. I moan as her tongue licks a stripe up my bloody back. I'm painfully wet and vulnerable. All I can do is shiver in my binds as she hand reaches around and slips into my joggers with ease. Her reward seems to please her.

"We aren't done yet."

Another titanium cable shoots from the ground and I can't even scream. It wraps around my midsection and pulls me to my hands and knees effortlessly. I gasp for air as Natasha begins to cut my leggings off slowly, teasing me. I slump forward as she rips them off me.

"Forgive me for what I'm about to do," she rasps at me, moving away to retrieve something. I grunt unintelligibly, the air hitting my wet center makes me feel completely exposed. I silently wonder what's she's about to do that needs forgiveness.

Slick fingers run through my folds and I jump immediately, eyes widening. These are not her fingers. They are too big and rough to be hers. "Natasha.."

 _"She's catatonic. A fuck doll. You can do whatever you want and she won't make a sound. It will help with the indoctrination." I want to scream that I'm awake. I want to fight. I want the ice to come forth and turn them into statues but it never does. I feel like I'll never be able to wash him off me. I've betrayed Natasha in the worst way._

Her hand smacks my sore back and I sob in pain, coming back from the memory. "You will call me Mistress. Not Natasha. Not Tasha. Mistress. Do you understand, pet?"

I squirm as those fingers enter me from behind and nod frantically. "Yes, Mistress. I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry enough," a familiar voice says behind me. A wave of fear rolls over me and I want to demand that he stop. I want to tell Natasha that I'm not okay with this but I can't get my body to respond. She doesn't know what they did to me. Not even _I_ can talk about it aloud.

Before I can think on this, something completely foreign and large begins to enter me without warning. My nails dig into the floor without relief and I groan loudly. I feel like I'm being split in half. My breaths come in short bursts of air and a scream bubbles in my chest. My mind is numb with memories of being violated.

"Mistress, please," I beg, tears streaming down my face. "I can't take this. Please. You don't understand."

Her hand pulls my ponytail back hard and I shut up immediately. When Barton's hips meet flush with my ass, my eyes roll back into my head like I'm possessed. I can't control myself. I feel like I'm about to cum already, but I know that she will rip me to shreds if I even think about it. This feels so wrong but so right. I feel forced but I feel like I need it to keep going.

"You're mine. Only mine. No one else can have you unless I say so. Not Hydra, not anyone. Do you understand? What they did to you will never happen again. **It was wrong** and I do not fault you."

 _How does she know?_

I know you, Ash, and it's happened to me too. You don't have to be afraid anymore. I could see the fear when he touched you."

Tears leak from my eyes again and I believe everything she says. I didn't deserve it. It wasn't my fault. I didn't betray her. A huge weight lifts from my shoulders.

Clint strokes into me hard and unrelenting, leaving me trembling beneath him. His body feels wrong against mine. I've never been with a man like this before. With consent. It feels out of place but I trust Barton like I trust Natasha.

"Oh god," I gasp between thrusts. He gives it to me just how I like it. No babying or softness. Each time he hits my cervix the pain brings me that much closer to unraveling. I feel ashamed of myself but I can't stop myself from wanting to cum.

"Does it hurt good? Do you want him to stop," Natasha says in my ear, hand tangiling in my hair. My back is arched unnaturally but it only adds to the intense pleasure.

I nod as best I can, eyes clenched shut.

"Yes, Mistress. I like it when it hurts like hell. Don't stop," I moan brokenly. Clint grunts in my ear and moves harder against me, while Natasha moves in front of me.

"Good, pet. Maybe we can let him join us more. He and I have many things in common."

Her naked body stuns my eyes like seeing an angel descend from the heavens. She's always been sculpted by the gods. I don't understand how I ever wanted to harm her. She lays down in front of me, wet center beckoning me forth. I want to dive in but she hasn't given me permission yet.

"Do you want me, pet," she asks, smirking. Her fingers wander down her body slowly, teasing me. I whimper as Clint thrusts into me particularly hard and nod frantically. "Come."

I dive in, arching my back for Clint. I lick and lap at her hardened clit as Barton slaps my ass and proceeds to bring me to the edge again and again. I moan into Natasha as my orgasm begins to make itself painfully known. I feel like I'm about to explode but I can't say anything. I don't want this to stop.

"She's choking me, Nat," Clint grunts from behind me, breathless. He stops moving and I feel my walls spawning around him hard. His hand squeeze my ass hard and I feel him throbbing inside me. I moan into Natasha breathlessly.

"My pet needs to cum, huh," Natasha gasps, hips moving up towards my mouth. I nod frantically and continue to suck at her hard clit. "Me too. Let her cum Clint."

He chuckles and starts again. This time I sigh in relief and open myself up for him. I need this. I have to have this release no matter where it comes from. Natasha seems to have the same problem. She grips my hair, suffocating me in her wet center as I work her over expertly. I feel overwhelmed by the control they have over me and my orgasm hits me like a ton of bricks dropping from space.

"Fuck," Natasha grunts, cumming into my mouth. Her pussy spasms against my tongue as mine spasms around Clint. He collaspes partially on top of me, cumming inside me in spurts of hot liquid. The flashbacks that I expect never come and I feel completely in bliss, only slightly disgusted. It feels so good despite it all.

"Jesus Christ, that was amazing," Clint grunts, pulling out of me slowly. I whimper and lie my head on Natasha's lap as he moves away.

The cables binding me hiss and unravel from my limbs. Snaking back into the ground and the ceiling without much effort. I collapse onto the ground, completely spent. My eyes are listless and staring into space when Natasha looks over me.

"Thanks Clint. You can go now. You better not tell anybody about this," I can hear her saying. I don't even move but I want to laugh at her conspiratorial whispering.

"Of course not. I was happy to help. Maybe she'll be better after this. It helped me," he replied, genuinely. My brows furrowed in confusion. Natasha did this to him too? Was he...raped too?

I could hear him climbing in to a vent and Natasha padding towards me, but I still lie there drained. Those fingertips tickled over my back again and I closed my eyes at the feeling. I felt completely and utterly broken down, layed bare for all to see. I felt powerful and like I belonged to something. I felt free.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, voice full of emotion. Confusion ebbed inside me. "I'm sorry for hurting you and letting Clint do that. I thought that if I took away everything, you would come back to yourself."

I sat up immediately and looked her in the eye. Hers watered and I smiled softly. She didn't understand. "Natasha, there's nothing you could've done to me that I wouldn't do to myself. You've helped me. I feel free."

Her eyes widened for a moment and she seemed relieved. "I thought I'd lost you," she whispered. I shook my head frantically and wrapped my arms around her slowly. My back was still sore.

"No. You've brought me back. I'm free," I said, kissing her hair. Tears came to my eyes as I realized how correct I was. The binds of Vladimir and the White Room were broken. The faceless man that did unspeakable things to was wiped away and the monster in my head no longer thrashed in his binds.

"I'm yours again."

She laughed tearfully against my shoulder and smiled. Suddenly, I had a burning question that needed answered. I pulled away from her slowly and looked her in the eye seriously. Natasha's brows furrowed.

"Have you always wanted a threesome with Barton or? Wait, have you two fucked? Like, while I was gone?"

Natasha looked at me like I had three heads before bursting into laughter. She stood up and walked over to the lockers to retrieve spare clothes, leaving me completely annoyed and ready to argue.

"Hey! I'm asking you a question woman!"


End file.
